She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and took several steps away from the precipitous drop. Hati looked down at the tar-coated wood beneath her feet then spun around, sprinted for the edge of the tower, and launched herself with a powerful kick off the low ledge between the crenellations.
Her powerful muscles propelled her several feet above the top of the gap-toothed crenellations before gravity reasserted itself and tried to drag her back down to the ground—tried and failed. With just a twitch of inhumanly strong back and chest muscles, her fourteen-foot wings spread out, instantly arresting her fall. She glided a score of yards in seconds before she put her powerful chest muscles to work, pumping her mottled brown and red-tipped wings up and down, carrying her higher and higher into the clammy morning sky.
Hati’s initial fear was instantly replaced by a sense of overwhelming joy and an exhilaration she had never felt before. She stared down at the dark green canopy of the evergreen trees falling away and racing past far beneath her as she continued to rocket up and away into the sky.
The shame she had felt for her forced deformity turned into pity for everyone who could never know this kind of freedom. Flying was life to her, as important as eating or breathing. Within the first few minutes of her first true flight she could not imagine ever living without it, and it made her weep with joy.
She looked down and saw a small figure racing along a large open glade below her. Hati had no problem identifying each feature on the young boy clinging to the back of the solid black horse that galloped across the meadow below. She pulled in her beautiful wings and went into a steep dive, reaching a speed that not even that sleek and powerful midnight horse could hope to match.
Peck rode bareback, as he often did, perched upon the back of his favorite, and by far the fastest, horse Azerick owned. Only his hands and bare feet touched Newmoon’s broad back as he raced across the meadow, whooping and recklessly waving into the air as Hati dove toward him at a fantastic speed.
Hati let out a shriek of joy, sounding as much like a human as she did a dire hawk as she spread her beautiful wings and leveled out a hundred feet above Peck. She marveled at the boy’s ability to ride as he clung to the horse’s back with such apparent ease. Another twitch of her wings sent her soaring back upward until the misty clouds were just above her, and the edge of the world appeared to lie just past the horizon only an hour’s flight away.
She did not know where she was going nor did she know when she would return, only that she had to follow the urge that drove her into the skies. Hati was certain she would come back one day. She was grateful to the old wizard for removing the mark that had enslaved her and for Colleen’s instant friendship. They were the only people who had ever seemed to accept her without question or reservation despite her appearance. Not even in her village had she been so welcomed, and she did not even have wings then!
Yes, she would return one day, but for now she had to fly, had to hunt. She had a few things in a pack strapped tightly to her stomach, but most of her food she would have to find herself. Her blood ran unnaturally hot. Even at this high altitude where the air was thin and near or even beyond freezing, she was warm in her simple, tight fitting clothing. Colleen had cut a large slit down the back of the leather jacket she wore. Laces allowed her to tie the top of the collar around her neck and a long belt kept the bottom tightly secured around her trim waist.
Hati had heard the nervousness around the keep as word of a possible invasion of some sort spread. She felt guilty for leaving them at what seemed a dark hour after all they had done for her, but she was not a warrior, although she could wield the short blade at her hip well when needed. The urge to fly was simply too great and could not be ignored. Hati was certain that they would all understand and not begrudge her. She prayed that they would stay safe as she flew off in search of whatever it was her heart seemed desperate to find.
***
Jansen stood alone atop the wall. He had sent the young men also assigned to this shift’s guard duty to the kitchens to get something warm to drink and to break their fast a little early. He watched Hati sail over the treetops until she disappeared into the distance, marveling at her grace and beauty.
The young woman’s beauty took him by surprise when Zeb first brought her into the keep, but that changed to something like awe when the old sailor pulled the blanket off her and he saw her amazing wings. She looked to him like a goddess of legend. Nevertheless, he would never allow his face to betray an emotion like surprise or amazement or even the desire that welled up in him when he first beheld her in all her unique splendor.
As the former captain of the King’s Blackguard assigned to protect Jarvin’s father, something not even his employers knew, he had avoided any personal attachments during his service and prayed that she would return. He knew she was not going to return this day and likely not for some time to come. He had never felt such intense feelings for a woman as he felt for Hati, and the sensation unsettled him more than just slightly. Jansen was unable to put his finger on the source of his sudden ardor for such an unusual yet captivating creature. He hoped she did not possess some innate charm ability like a siren or nymph.
Perhaps it was because for the first time in years his mind was able to focus upon something other than his duty. For nearly ten years, he sought the Rook so that he could fulfill his vow to kill the man. That quest came to a bitter end when the assassin got himself killed by a lowly goblin.
He could still not believe it. Ever since he had failed in his duty to protect Jarvin’s father from the deadly killer, Jansen had made it his life’s focus to achieve that vendetta. After several near misses, then completely losing the trail, he had attached himself to the sorcerer’s friend, figuring that their paths would cross one day.
He tucked his personal thoughts and feelings deep into the recesses of his mind, just as he had done by necessity so many times in the past that it was a perfectly natural state for him. This time, it seemed just a bit more difficult to shut the lid on them. The bodyguard continued his patrol upon the wall. He could smell danger in the air, an acrid sort of tension that seemed to cast a pall across the land. He just wondered when the source of it would finally show itself.
***
Wolf and Ghost plodded through what was probably the last snow of winter even though spring should have arrived weeks ago. It was still cold, and the snow would not likely melt for another few weeks, but he and Ghost had been cooped up inside the keep far longer than either of them could tolerate.
Wolf enjoyed the clean cold air blowing on his face and filling his lungs. He hoped he might bag a nice winter hare or two today. Ghost suddenly stopped and stared toward the south as a deep, low rumbling filling his massive chest.
“You feel it too don’t you, boy?” Wolf asked. “Someone is in our woods that don’t belong. I thought it was just my nerves from being cooped up too long, but it’s not, is it?”
Ghost glanced up at his half-elf friend with his golden eyes then stared south once more.
“I didn’t think so. Let’s go see what it is.”
The snow was still deep even beneath the thick boughs of the evergreen trees as they walked south in search of whatever it was that disturbed the spirit of his forest. Wolf wore a pair of snowshoes he made from deer sinew and soft pine branches earlier in the season. He did manage to take down a winter hare and a pair of grouse with his bow for which he was grateful. He knew he would not find whomever or whatever he was looking for before nightfall.
Wolf found a good hollow under a young evergreen and shoveled out the remaining snow until he managed to reach dirt and old pine needles and cleared a large enough space for the two of them. He then kindled a small fire inside the hollow and roasted the two birds and the rabbit. Wolf dropped a fist-sized chunk of coal from his fire kit onto the fire that would stay smoldering and giving off heat for hours and soon fell asleep.
He found himself loping through the snow-covered woods. Because the pristine
white snow covered nearly everything, it took several minutes before he realized that he was colorblind. Wolf saw that where the snow had fallen from some of the tree branches the needle-covered limbs were a dark grey, not green.
His lack of color vision was far from a handicap. Whatever happened to him, he could see more shades of grey than he thought were possible. He could also hear with amazing acuity, and the scents that came to his nose were so strong and concise that it was almost like a second type of vision.
His view was also oriented lower to the ground than he was accustomed to. He looked down and saw his broad, black chest and forefeet. He was not Wolf but Ghost. The feeling was strange but exhilarating. Wolf-Ghost caught the scent of a deer and raced off in the direction from which it came. He could tell just by the smell that there was a buck and at least two doe not far from where he stood.
His delicate nose picked up the scent of fear that suddenly roiled off the prey animals as their own acute hearing detected the sound of his careless charge. Wolf-Ghost caught a flash of movement ahead and saw the broad, white rumps of the deer spring away into the woods. Wolf-Ghost laughed aloud but it sounded more like a yip and was about to give chase when another scent intruded onto his senses—smoke, men, and horses and not far away.
He resisted his chase instinct and moved toward the source of the smell but with much more caution than he had the deer. The scent of a lone human separated itself from the others. It was stronger, closer. Wolf-Ghost crept nearer, skirting around the base of the trees so his black coat would not stand out so much and would appear as just another shadow.
He heard the human’s breathing before he saw him. He was dressed in white and grey clothing and furs, blending in with the surroundings quite well. Wolf-Ghost knew that he would have to get past this human if he were going to be able to see who else was in his woods without his permission. Though technically outside the area he frequently marked as his own, in both his forms, he still considered these woods his, and he did not tolerate interlopers—especially ones that stank of foul intent as these did.
The human was vigilant, but he did not belong here as Wolf-Ghost did. He was out of his element, and it was going to cost him dearly. Wolf-Ghost was able to creep within a few paces of the man before the human turned and saw the crouched black form against the base of a nearby tree.
The human tried to pull one of the long, steel claw-fangs hanging from his side, but Wolf-Ghost was too fast. Before the human could shout a warning to the rest of his pack, Wolf-Ghost’s powerful jaws pierced the soft flesh of the man’s throat and crushed his windpipe, riding the falling body to the ground.
The human was dead before his head hit the snow. Bright red blood, dark grey to his wolf eyes, ruined the pristine snow all around the body. Wolf-Ghost’s black coat did not show the blood that covered his jaws and chest, but he could taste it. It was not the pleasant taste of his usual prey food, but it was not altogether vile.
He followed the human’s tracks back toward the rest of his pack, more by smell than by the sight of the prints, but he could use those too. Even when he was just Ghost, he knew what tracks looked like and could decipher their meaning. Within minutes, he saw the dying fires of the humans and the dens the humans made of hides that came from plants. Canvas, the Wolf part of Wolf-Ghost said in his bilateral mind.
The pack was huge, bigger than any he had seen outside of a human city. The count was beyond his ability to reason, but he knew that this was the source of his troubles. He had to warn the rest of his pack. Wolf-Ghost decided it was best to get back to his den, but he picked up the scent of another lone human not far from the first one he killed.
Well, I have time for one more, he thought and set out to leave another example of how he dealt with intruders in his forest.
Wolf awoke from the strange but wonderful dream with a yawn and a stretch. He smacked his lips at the coppery taste filling his mouth like the shadow of memory. He plucked a pinch of young pine needles from the tree and chewed them, quickly taking care of the strange morning taste. He squinted at the darkness and felt around for Ghost, but the wolf was not here.
Probably went out to expand his territory again. Not a bad idea come to think of it.
He laid his hand onto the silver wolf’s head pommel of his short sword and was surprised to find that it was warm to the touch.
It was probably under Ghost and he just left.
Wolf gave his chest and arms a quick scratch then crawled out from under the thick boughs of the young tree. Rough hands grabbed him and lifted him to his feet. Wolf cast a startled glance behind him and looked into the fur-hooded face of the man holding his arms tightly to his sides.
“What do we have here?” a second man with a drawn sword asked. “You ain’t no wolf!”
“I am so!”
“Ya look more like a wood rat than the wolf we tracked back here. What do ya know about that, boy?”
Wolf dropped to his knees without warning, slipping from the man’s grip, rolled to the side, and drew his small sword.
“I know you orc lovers better leave me alone,” Wolf warned, brandishing the masterly crafted shortsword with much more bravado than skill.
Both men grinned disdainfully at the half-elf’s bluster. “Now ain’t that a pretty little thing. Am I supposed to be scared of a little boy with a pretty little knife?”
“I would be more afraid of Ghost if I were you.”
“I’m a man grown, boy, ghosts don’t scare me none no more.”
“Well, I guess that will be the last mistake you ever make then.”
Before the man could reply, a black blur leapt out of the trees, pinning his sword arm uselessly against his chest as he fell with Ghost at his throat. Wolf lunged forward and slashed at the other man before he could even get his blade halfway clear of its sheath. The wolf-headed sword sliced through the thick fur coat and steel-linked armor as if it were made of paper. Blood blossomed in a thick line across the man’s midsection as he dropped to his knees then fell facedown into the snow.
“I think it’s time to go, Ghost.”
Wolf gathered his bow, quiver, and strapped on his snowshoes, never noticing the dark, dried blood covering Ghost’s chest. He looked at the bodies of the two men, unaffected by the sight of their blood.
Definitely not from around here; too tan and they stink.
Wolf and Ghost began the long trek through the snow back the way they came. He knew all he needed to know and was in a hurry to get back and tell Azerick. Whatever these men were doing, it was not going to be good for the school or North Haven.
It took most of the day for him to reach the keep late that afternoon and immediately sought out Azerick and the others. He was doubly lucky in that it was almost time for the evening meal. That way they would all be together, and he could fill his hungry belly.
Wolf and Ghost strode into the dining hall, took a seat without preamble, and began helping himself to everything within reach, fixing a second plate for Ghost and setting it on the floor. He did not like that Ghost was required to eat on the floor like an animal, but Allister got mad last time he set him a place at the table with the rest of them.
Humans, go figure, he thought.
“It is nice to see you actually sitting at the table and not darting out from under it to steal a ham or swinging down from the rafters,” Azerick said from the head of the table.
Wolf just shrugged and shoveled food into his mouth with inexpert use of the metal utensils. Yet another reason he rarely ate at the table with the others.
“There are people in my woods—men,” Wolf finally said once he slowed down enough to draw breath.
“I imagine there are from time to time. Does this surprise you for some reason?” Azerick asked.
Wolf shook his head as he bolted down a large piece of roast. “There are a lot of men. I killed some, one, and Ghost killed three—although I may have killed three and him one, not sure. Maybe we should split the first two.”
All conversation stopped and every eye turned to look at the young man still eating, seemingly unperturbed by what he just said.
“You don’t know if you killed one or three?”
“I don’t know, maybe it was a dream, I’m not sure.”
Azerick spoke with measured slowness. “Who did you kill, Wolf?”
“Some men; soldiers from the looks of them. Guards, maybe scouts. Definitely scouts I think. They had a really big camp with lots of tents and horses.” Wolf glanced out of the corner of his eye toward the ceiling. “I think there were anyway, but that may have been a dream too, but I don’t think so; not just a dream anyway.”
Aggie asked, “Wolf, what do you mean by you think it was a dream, and what did you see?”
Wolf shook his head as he swallowed nearly half a potato, barely chewing it. “I went to sleep, I think, and then I was Ghost. I chased some deer then I smelled humans. I killed a guard and saw a huge camp with lots of tents and horses. When I woke up, two men grabbed me. Ghost killed one and I killed the other with my sword. By the way, have you found my present yet for those feathers?”
“No, Wolf, I have yet to find something appropriate,” Azerick replied in exasperation.
Aggie looked at Ghost who was peering over the top of the table as if he were following the conversation. He yawned widely, his tongue jutting out and curling, and ended it with a squeak.
“What do you make of that, Aggie?” Allister asked his lady friend.
“I think we had best heed the young man’s warning. I won’t pretend to fully understand what he is talking about in regards to the dreams, but I think he has seen enough that we would be foolish not be ready and quickly.”
Azerick nodded at her suggestion. “I agree. Coupled with the news Zeb brought, and what I saw with my own eyes, I think we need to be extra vigilant and warn North Haven as well. Wolf, how far away were they, and how many do you think there were?”
The Sorcerer's Path Box Set: Book 1-4 Page 133
